The October After
by WhiskeyTangoFoxtrot
Summary: Complete. One-shot. "They claw, Anthony . . . they rip and eat flesh. They smell like blood." The first Halloween after the Battle of Hogwarts, Anthony helps Lavender to live again.


**For the Reviews Lounge Halloween Challenge--**

**_Something Wicked This Way Comes_.**

**My character is Anthony Goldstein. **

**This can be read with my Anthony Goldstein and Lavender Brown two-part romance, "Her First and Her Last".**

**I own nothing. Unbeta'd.**

* * *

**The October After**

He watches her before he approaches her.

It is his way.

Anthony Goldstein has never been good with words. Sometimes, he has to think about what he wants to say and how to say it. For although Lavender Brown has gotten better since the Battle, today might prove difficult for her.

He starts walking. He watches leaves, dried and brown, swirl around her feet in the cold October breeze. The chilly gust forces her to pull her thick robes close to her body. Anthony notices, with a pang in his heart, that she presses her hood tight to her face.

She makes sure that it completely covers the left side of her head.

He is close to reaching her—

"_ROW_-_RR_!"

"Oops," he says to a young boy, no more than eight, dressed innocently as a werewolf. The boy's friends giggle and laugh and they're in costume and makeup. One looks like a vampire, another a goblin. Anthony laughs at them and he looks up, and his smile falls.

Lavender has noticed him — and the little werewolf.

He takes his glasses off and wipes them with his sleeve as he weaves in between the groups of costumed children clamoring for sweets and goodies from adults.

He reaches her and puts his glasses back on. He smiles, genuinely, as he always does when he sees her, but inside he knows she is still not whole. She is still not well.

"Hey there." He places a hand on her back, gentle with his touch. She continues to watch the children, her hand pressed now to her hood, keeping it from blowing away in the wind.

Anthony leans forward to peck her on her cheek, and his hand tries to brush strands of her blonde hair as it flies into her face. But she jumps back as if his touch shocks her and she turns her face further away from him.

"Don't, Tony."

"Lav—"

"_No,_" she whispers. Anthony can hear her sniff.

He watches her breathe and he gathers up his own courage. He places a hand on her back and moves over to her left side, crooking a finger under the fabric of her hood.

"Lavender. Come on." He leans closer, intending to give her a peck on the cheek or perhaps a gentle kiss on the corner of her mouth.

But as he approaches, he sees where she is looking.

Her eyes follow the little werewolf as he jumps and growls and wrestles his friends to the ground. Her left hand bats his away.

"Is it wrong that I want to shake him?"

Anthony winces and inhales through puckered lips. "No, it's not wrong."

"He should _know_." Lavender swallows as she collects her thoughts. "H-he should kn-know that those things . . . those things don't act like puppies or cute little dogs."

She presses her hand to her mouth, and shuts her eyes. Anthony can see the trails of tears running down her cheeks, bending and curving as they run along her scars.

Lavender's breath halts and she wipes her face, taking in big sobs as she does so.

"Th-they claw, Anthony." She turns and looks at him with shiny, moist eyes. "They rip and eat flesh. They smell like _blood_."

He shuts his eyes. His arm unfurls behind her, grasping her around her shoulders and pulling her towards him.

Lavender lets her body shake in his embrace; she lets her face fall forward and she presses against his chest.

"I can still smell him." She trembles as she cries and Anthony hugs her, hoping his arms can hold her together. "Sometimes I wake up screaming because I can f-feel his teeth on my neck, his jaws on my face. I ca- . . . can see his fur and it's covered with m-my blood—"

She cries hard into his chest. Anthony rocks her band and forth gently. Over her head, he sees the little werewolf running up to his mother, reaching out for more candy.

"A-and h-he's growling . . . r-roar-_roaring_," she says taking in more breaths. "Oh _Godric_!" Her voice is muffled as she is crying into his chest. "Oh Godric . . . oh Godric. . . ."

He takes a breath. "L-Lav?" He speaks with a voice that breaks a little bit. "Lavender," he says again with a little more strength, "what do you feel? Right now?"

Lavender's sobs start to wane. "Th-the air. The fall air?"

Anthony nods and lets his lips touch the crown of her head. "What else?"

She gulps and takes in breaths softly through her nose. "I smell leaves."

He looks down at her and sees her eyes are shut, fluttering as a gust sweeps by them again. "Leaves. Okay, good. What else?"

This time, she hums quietly from the back of her throat and he can feel her shoulders hitch underneath his arms. "You. I can smell you."

Anthony smiles and lets a chuckle escape from him. "Hope I smell all right."

She nods and she tightens her hold around him, squeezing him with her right arm.

"You smell like soap, and," she brings her head up, her hood still pressed against the left side of her face, "spice."

"And everything nice?" He cocks his eyebrow at her.

Finally, she smiles at him. He can see that she is still sad, but she is letting herself smile and that makes him hopeful that he is helping her.

"_Everything_," she murmurs. "There is nothing bad about you, Anthony Goldstein." Her hood falls away. "Absolutely nothing."

He cups her left cheek, still rough and scarred. There are still dark patches that have grown into webs that stretch across her cheek, but she has healed — physically, if not emotionally.

Not completely at least.

"Look at me, Lavender."

She does, even as her grip on his robes tightens. He doesn't let her get away with turning away from him. Sometimes she hates him for not letting her hide. Other times, she turns her mouth upward. Anthony knows that, in those moments, she is happy because someone is looking at her without reservation and without fear.

"I am all that's here with you. Ignore the little monsters around us. And don't think," he kisses her on the tip of her nose, "about the bigger ones from the past."

He pulls her towards him. She falls into his body, her arms tight around his chest.

"It may be Halloween, but there's nothing to fear anymore, is there?"

She is no longer crying, although her face is still wet. She looks at him and nods with a smile wider than before.

He lowers his head to kiss her properly.

"Happy Halloween then."

He answers not with words but with his lips.


End file.
